


Massage Therapy

by Lovelyziam



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [15]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, and some sexual tension, i guess?, it's a precursor to the making out so, light - Freeform, there's also some light making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 14:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19813999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovelyziam/pseuds/Lovelyziam
Summary: Watching Liam run around and play with his younger cousins was something that was now permanently seared into his brain, and the aftermath was fatal. How the fuck is Zayn ever supposed to look at Liam again and not imagine him chasing around children—their children—or laughing as they used him like a fucking jungle gym. How was he supposed to look Liam in the eyes and not feel the familiar swoop of butterfly wings against his insides, the nearly paralyzing force of his feeling all rushing to the surface?He wasn’t, that’s how. And now here he was, stuck watching Liam give Safaa a piggy back ride around the living room—even though she was much to big for one now—with his heart in his throat and his smile threatening to break his face in half.





	Massage Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> You know the drill by now, originally posted [here](https://lovlieziam.tumblr.com/post/186227885656/ziam-4-pls).

Zayn was pretty sure he was dying. There was absolutely no way anyone would think he was being dramatic, nope, not if they’d been subjected to the view _he’d_ been forced to see all day.

Watching Liam run around and play with his younger cousins was something that was now permanently seared into his brain, and the aftermath was _fatal_. How the fuck is Zayn ever supposed to look at Liam again and not imagine him chasing around children— _their_ children—or laughing as they used him like a fucking jungle gym. How was he supposed to look Liam in the eyes and not feel the familiar swoop of butterfly wings against his insides, the nearly paralyzing force of his feeling all rushing to the surface?

He wasn’t, that’s how. And now here he was, stuck watching Liam give Safaa a piggy back ride around the living room—even though she was _much_ to big for one now—with his heart in his throat and his smile threatening to break his face in half.

When Safaa had first challenged Liam—she’d called him an old man and told him he was getting weak in his old age; the look on Liam’s face alone had been priceless—the last thing Zayn expected was for Liam to meet the challenge head on. Really, Zayn should’ve recognized the knowing glint in Safaa’s eye when she’d called Liam weak—that this piggy back ride was _exactly_ what she’d wanted, and she knew how to get it.

Still, he’d been a little shocked when Liam had so readily agreed. He shouldn’t have, but yet here he was: sitting in the middle of the living room with the furniture pushed against the walls and Liam zipping around the room with Safaa on his back as they both let out ridiculously loud laughter.

It was heartwarming, to put it lightly, and Zayn felt himself fall deeper and deeper in love with Liam in that moment. It really was becoming quite the problem, if he was being honest with himself.

Zayn watched as Liam slowed down by the couch, twisting his torso to throw Safaa off his back and onto the furniture. Safaa let out a string of squealing giggles as she flew threw the air then landed, sending Liam into a fit of laughter as well.

Zayn was pretty sure his fucking heart was going to burst right out of his chest with the overwhelming amount of love he felt for both of them in that moment.

Liam abandoned Safaa on the couch, coming over to sprawl out on his back right in front of Zayn’s crossed legs.

“Your sister’s a brat,” he panted, his eyes slipping closed and his cheeks flushed from the exertion. Zayn found him incredibly beautiful, if not entirely inelegant.

“Am not!” Safaa protested, grabbing a pillow from the couch and chucking it at Liam. “Jerk.”

Liam let out a startled _oof_ , his eyes flying open as the pillow smacked him in the face. He threw an overly exaggerated outraged look Safaa’s way before saying, “Then explain the pillow, brat!” and flinging it back her way. She deflected it, much to Liam’s dismay.

“It was for calling me a brat!”

Liam let out a laugh, wiggling his eyes brows. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so offended if it wasn’t so true.”

Safaa let out an exaggerated gasp, bringing a hand to her chest in mock betrayal. She wasn’t doing a very good job of acting offended—even Zayn could see the smile twitching on the corners of her lips.

“It is not true, you big—”

“Okay, enough, children!” Zayn cut in. Honestly, if they kept it up much longer Zayn didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from leaning forward and kissing Liam silly. “The two of you are ridiculous,” Zayn muttered, finishing his statement with an eye roll.

He looked down when Liam rolled towards him slightly, and he very pointedly did _not_ feel his annoyed façade fall away at Liam’s cheeky smile.

“Yeah, but you love us, Zaynie,” Liam said, and fuck. Liam didn’t even know how true that was, did he?

But a life time with him had made Safaa an expert, apparently, because Zayn didn’t miss the not-so-sly smirk that crossed her lips before she said, “Yeah, _Zaynie._ L-o-v-e, love.”

It was anything but subtle, and the glare Zayn threw her way matched. He was just about to tell her exactly how to fuck off when their mother’s voice interrupted, cutting off what was bound to be a scathing remark.

“The food is ready, whenever you lazy bums decide you want some!” And with that, she disappeared around the corner again, no doubt rejoining everyone in the backyard.

Safaa bounced up right away, practically sprinting for the back door. Liam didn’t even twitch, which meant that Zayn didn’t, either.

“What?” Zayn asked. “You not feeling particularly hungry after all that heavy lifting, old man?”

Liam shot a half-hearted glare up at Zayn, but the smile made it much less effective than he probably would have liked.

“Har, har,” Liam murmured. There was a beat of silence before, “I don’t know if I can get up.” Zayn took a couple of moments to process Liam’s words before he broke down into full belly laughs.

Liam’s face grew slightly indignant, but his smile was still very much in place with he said, “I’m serious, Z! I’m pretty sure I pulled something while carrying Safaa around!” It only made Zayn laugh harder, bending in half and grabbing at his aching sides.

“Zayn!” Liam stuck his bottom lip out, pouting up at Zayn in a way that made him look like a sad puppy and _fuck_ , but that pout should not be that adorable—or that _effective_ , for crying out loud. “Stop being mean, I’m in pain here.” He finished his statement with an exaggerated frown, and Zayn already felt himself caving.

Slowly, Zayn’s laughter faded out as he looked down at Liam. For a moment, they just stared at each other, Liam’s pout still firmly in place and Zayn’s smile more than likely stupidly soft.

A though crossed Zayn’s mind and, really, he should’ve tried _so_ much harder to push it away, but, well…

“Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?” Well, that was articulate. Zayn had all of three seconds to scream at himself in his head—mostly calling himself an absolute idiot—before Liam was beaming up at him.

“Really?” Liam breathed. Zayn nodded, and Liam’s grin grew a little wider before he rolled over onto his stomach. “You’re the best, Zaynie,” he sighed out, and really, those four words should not have any effect over Zayn, yet he still felt his breath catch all the same.

Zayn uncrossed his legs, lifting himself up to settle onto his knees next to Liam’s torso. He reached his hands out, hovering them over Liam’s back while wonder _what the fuck he was doing_. He clearly hadn’t thought this through. He’d be touching Liam. Massaging him. For a prolonged period of time. _Fuck._

Sure, he’d touched Liam before. They were friends, of course he had. But he’d never touched Liam like this—with Liam so eager and trusting, so fucking pliant underneath him. It was a little heady, and a lot scary.

Zayn pushed out a hard breath through his nose, a soft _fuck it_ running through his mind before he settled his hands on Liam’s back. He could do this. Liam was his friend, he could do him this one favor and not make it weird. Totally.

Zayn ran his hands up and down Liam’s back, before he finally started applying pressure. The minute he dug the heel of his hands underneath his shoulder blades, Liam let out a soft groan that sent a jolt down Zayn’s spine.

Yeah, forget what he said earlier. This was going to be absolute torture. Still, it would look pretty suspicious if he stopped now, so he continued. He kept apply pressure, digging his fingers into the muscle of Liam’s back, working his way downward. By the time he reached the dip at the bottom of Liam’s spine, Liam was practically a pile of putty beneath his hands; his muscles completely relaxed and his breathing deep and even. Zayn would’ve thought he was asleep, if it hadn’t been for the slightly breathy noises he’d been making—those fucking noises that were messing with Zayn’s head.

Zayn lifted his hands, spinning his wrists a couple times to try and remove the tension from the awkward angle he was working at. He was beginning to understand why masseuses stood above their clients.

That made a thought jump into Zayn’s mind, one he should really, really ignore, but—

“Ah, Liam?” He began, and Liam hummed in reply. “This would, um, this would be a lot easier if—”

“Yeah,” Liam breathed. “Anything, whatever you want.”

And really, Liam shouldn’t be _saying_ things like that to Zayn. It made less than friendly thoughts come to mind.

“Okay,” Zayn let out, trying—and failing—to hide the tremble in his voice. “Okay.” And with that, he lifted one of his knees, bringing it down on the other side of Liam’s hip so he was effectively straddling Liam’s ass.

It was probably entirely inappropriate, but Liam _had_ said anything. Still, he felt it was only proper to confirm. “Is, um, is this alright, Li?”

Liam’s only response was a borderline dreamy _mmhmm_ , so Zayn figured he was in the clear. He placed his hand back on Liam’s back, more than a little grateful for the thin material of Liam’s shirt hiding his skin. He wasn’t entirely sure he could keep his reactions appropriate with the material there, let alone with Liam’s warm, bare skin spread out and waiting for Zayn’s hands.

_Fuck,_ he really hadn’t thought this through. This new position not only brought to mind too many dirty thoughts, but it also allowed him to apply more pressure—pressure Liam _really_ appreciated if the moans he was starting to let out were any indication.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ Zayn thought as he felt his own reaction getting decidedly _not_ PG. He was trying to think of a smooth way to exit this whole situation when Liam let out a rough, “ _Fuck,_ Zayn,” that succeeded in going straight to Zayn’s dick, and now he really needed to leave. Right now, immediately.

Zayn must’ve made some kind of noise at Liam’s outburst because before he could get his knee all the way off the ground—trying to unstraddle Liam and make a break for it—Liam was rolling over, quick as lightning, and clamping both his hands around the area above Zayn’s knees.

“Wait,” Liam grunted, obviously still in a haze the massage had sent him into. And Zayn, well, he could’ve broken the hold Liam had on him and made that break, but if tonight was any indication, Zayn really didn’t make the best decisions, did he?

He stared down at Liam, and the look he was met with almost made him swallow his fucking tongue. Liam’s eyes were dark as he gazed up at Zayn, his pupils so wide they almost swallowed the iris, and the flush in his cheeks was unmistakably from _arousal_.

Fuck if it didn’t make Zayn’s head a little fuzzy, and, honestly, that could be the only explanation for his actions. He finally lowered himself, sinking on his knees a little bit until his ass met Liam’s hips, and, _fuck—_

Liam was hard. Zayn hadn’t been expecting that in the slightest, and he sure as fuck wasn’t expecting the moan that Liam let loose once their bodies connected. His hands shot up to grab at Zayn’s hips, his grip tight enough that it sent a thrill running through Zayn.

Liam was panting now, and it made Zayn a little reckless to see Liam so debauched already. He rocked his hips down, creating a slow drag that made Liam choke out a groan, his grip growing impossibly tighter on Zayn’s hips.

“ _Zayn,”_ Liam grunted, the strain of holding back clear on his face. If only Liam knew how much Zayn didn’t _want_ him to hold back.

For the second time tonight, Zayn found himself thinking _fuck it_ , and he finally leaned forward, sealing his lips to Liam’s in a filthy, open mouthed kiss. Liam let out a broken groan the minute their mouths touched, removing a hand from Zayn’s hip to slide into his hair and hold him in place.

The slick slide of their mouths was intoxicating, and the delicious drag of their hips against another had Zayn panting into Liam’s mouth. Liam wasn’t fairing much better, his breath coming in sharp puffs even as he deepened the kiss.

Zayn was ready to lose himself in the feel of Liam’s lips, his fucking body—time and place who? Zayn didn’t give a fuck where they were as long as Liam kept grinding up against him like that—when they were forced back into reality by Safaa’s voice. If she’d been surprised to walk in on them necking, she sure in the fuck didn’t act like it.

“Just so you guys know, mum’s about to send a search party out for you guys. Seriously, stop making out for, like, five minutes and get some damned food.” And with that, she was gone just as quickly as she’d come in.

There was a long, tense silence where both boys just stared at the doorway Safaa had disappeared through—a silence where Zayn’s heart threatened to beat right out of his chest, _fuck_ —before Liam broke out into loud, contagious laughter. It was barely second before Zayn was laughing with him.

When both boys finally calmed down, Liam gave Zayn’s hips a soft squeeze—and, hey, when had he put both hands back there?—before sending a shy smile up at Zayn.

“So, um. Food?”

Zayn grinned down at him for a second before levering himself up, holding a hand out for Liam. “Food sounds great.”


End file.
